


Does your God count men?

by weareunderthesameskies (OliviaNMaestro)



Series: The unseen. (Vikings pod/coda fics) [3]
Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Athelnar - Freeform, Dry Humping, Episode: Dispossesed, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 18:22:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2478017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OliviaNMaestro/pseuds/weareunderthesameskies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ragnar is curious. The previous night, he invited the priest to join his wife and him in bed, and Athelstan mentioned that his God forbade him. But, he forbade him from touching women only. Was there more to it? (Set after episode 3, maybe a weeks time after invitation for threesome).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Does your God count men?

"Do men count as well?"

 Athelstan raised his eyes from his work to look at Ragnar. He hissed as the needle went through the cloth and pricked his finger.

 "What do you mean?" he asked, gently sucking his thumb, soothing it. Ragnar was laying across the bed, his blue eyes fixated on Athelstan.

 "You said that your God forbade you from touching a woman." He tilted his head. "But what about men?"

 Athelstan removed his thumb with a soft plop sound, which Ragnar smirked at. The monk could feel himself blushing again and averted his gaze from the man before him.

 "I... well... According to my vows I must not lay with anybody... but I -"

 "You would like to?" Ragnar asked, propping himself up on one arm.

 "No!" blurted Athelstan, snapping his head back at the Viking, who was taken slightly aback at the outburst. "Well, not no, as such, it's not that… It’s just, I ..." he stuttered off, lowering his gaze again. "I had not considered it."

"Ah," said Ragnar. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and rose quietly. Athelstan swallowed dryly and returned to his sewing work, trying to push the images of the previous night out of his head. They were sinful, he reminded himself. And wrong. And he must not give in to them.

Ragnar's boots thumped across the floor. The monk tried to make little notice of him and hoped quietly that he would leave him be to finish his work. Instead he could feel his presence behind him, hovering, waiting.

 "Have you considered it now?" the Viking asked, his breath barely ghosting across the man’s ear.

 Athelstan was finding difficulty swallowing properly. Warmth spread across his chest and cheeks. His hands shook slightly. Ragnar slipped his arms around him and held his hands still, leaning closely, almost flush against the monk’s back.

 "I- well ... it ...  it does only state women, in the text, however, I do belie- that, aerhm, that, I ...-" he stuttered off, mumbling, fumbling across his words as the Viking gently pressed his lips against the monk’s neck, still grasping his hands, holding them close.

 The roughness of his beard took Athelstan by surprise, but he'd be lying if he said it wasn't pleasant. Ragnar buried his face in his neck, humming with contempt.

 "So," he breathed across the monk’s skin. "Is that a no?"

 Athelstan took a shaky breath, words slipping from his mind. These heathens were much more intimate than he'd ever experienced before. Ragnar grazed his ear gently with his teeth drawing a quick suck of breath from the man.

 "For ... For, " Athelstan struggled, "For what?"

 He could feel the Viking smile, the beard itching across his skin.

 "Athelstan," he said. "Do you want to have sex with me or not?"

 Athelstan gasped, either of the frankness of the question or gasping for air, and wretched himself out of the man’s grip, knocking the sewing work off the table when turning around. Ragnar quickly placed his hands on either side of him against the table, locking him firmly between his arms, hovering over him like a wolf to devour its prey. He smiled, his eyes glistening. Athelstan found himself transfixed, lost in the man's eyes.

 Ragnar cocked his head slightly and ducked down for a gentle kiss. Athelstan's thoughts were blurred. He was grasping for the memories of his prayers but failed to recall them.

 The Vikings’ lips were chapped and raw but warm, and they stuck slightly when he moved away again, letting a shaky breath across the monk’s face. Athelstan screwed his eyes shut and drew shallow breaths now, breathing and smelling the man’s deafening musk. It was like the sea and blood and mud. It was warm and pleasant. A shiver went through his body.

 " _Yes_ ," he gasped, like a drowning man seeking air. "Ragnar, I-"

 The Vikings’ lips crushed against his now. It was beastly and wrong and Athelstan could feel his gut curling up in agonizing heat.

 This kiss was different. Ragnar was pressing his pelvic against Athelstan's and brought his hands to cup around his head, his nails scratching his scalp, his thumbs brushing his cheeks. He was so overwhelming and everywhere in Athelstan's presence.

 The kiss was wet and open mouthed and demanding and oh so sinful. Athelstan was grasping at his clothes, pulling but not pulling away, lost in Ragnar's kiss.

 The table rattled as Ragnar pushed against him again and Athelstan moaned loudly into the man’s mouth, his body betraying him. The rough beard was burning his cheeks, his body and face flushed with heat, uncontrolled and wild. Ragnar chuckled and pulled away from the monk’s mouth. He rested his forehead against the monk’s, cradling his head gently.

 "Athelstan," he whispered and the monk felt shivers from down his spine to the tip of his fingers. His eyes were still closed, but he grasped the Viking's clothes tighter.

 Ragnar rocked against him again, drawing another loud gasp. He moved his hands down the monk’s face and neck and grasped his shirt firmly and pulled him away from the table with such force. Turning them around, he slammed the monk against the wall behind and rutted against Athelstan again, making him moan in pleasure and gasping for breath. Ragnar captured his open mouth, lips pressing firmly, his warm tongue meeting the monk’s in a wet kiss.

 "R... Rag-ah, Ragnar, _Ragnar_ , Ragnar please-" the monk chanted, holding onto the Viking’s clothes, scratching at his back, gripping for something, anything.

 "Yes?" he murmured, drawing back, waiting.

 Athelstan opened his eyes and found Ragnar's, searching in them. They were almost black, lust laying so heavy in them. He slid his hand down Athelstan's face, resting his thumb on his ravished bottom lip, pulling it down slightly. He rocked against the monk again, curling his left hand behind his head between the wall as they both moved together. Their eyes stayed transfixed upon one another. He moved again, pressing, demanding, sweat breaking out on his forehead. It was so warm, they were still wearing all their clothes and it felt unbearable. He wanted to remove it, remove the barrier between them.

 Athelstan leaned his head against the wall, baring his neck, pulling Ragnar forward again. He was so warm and he needed... He needed... His belly felt on fire, his groin twitching.

 "I need-" he gasped, moving his hands from Ragnar's clothes to his hair, pulling. "Please Ragnar, I-"

 Ragnar mouthed a kiss across Athelstan's skin, nodding, humming in agreement.

 "I know, priest," he whispered, and thrust again. Athelstan let out a throaty groan. "You need to come."

 He moved with such rhythm, such power, forcing their bodies together.

 Athelstan had read of such things but never, he had never imagined anything like this. The chaos, the madness in the heat, the needing...

 His belly twisted again and he let out a moan at the contact when Ragnar thrust again. And again. And again.

 "O- Oh.. Oh God!"

 Ragnar chuckled at the outburst but Athelstan couldn’t think of it. All all he could think of was Ragnar and Ragnar's body and Ragnar mouth and Ragnar's hands moving, feeling, exploring...

 The steady feeling of Ragnar pushing against Athelstan persisted but the warmth was exploding. His stomach knotted. He felt rushes of blood move through his body and his head was light.

 "Ragnar... Ragnar, I'm - I... " he gasped, moaned. "I'm going t-"

 "Sssh ... I know, priest," whispered the Viking in his ear. He was curling both his hands into his hair now. "Come. Come for me," he murmured gently.

 Athelstan felt an incomparable bliss wash over him. His eyes rolled back and he groaned throatily and jutted against Ragnar, stuttering, fumbling at his shirt, grasping and letting go as he came. His knees felt weak. His breaths were shallow, warm and quick.

 He blinked at the ceiling as Ragnar nuzzled his neck and hummed happily. The fire crackled somewhere in the room, but it was so unbearably quiet. They stayed close, both breathing heavily.

 "Do you think your God was watching?" Ragnar asked quietly, his warm breath tickling his ear.

 Athelstan's eyes widened.

 "Do you think he liked it as much as you did?" he continued, taunting. He licked his neck and Athelstan shivered again.

 "I doubt it..." he murmured, still out of breath. The monk’s hands were resting against Ragnar's back, cradling him close, holding on to him.

 Ragnar froze momentarily. Athelstan was worried that he’d said something wrong.

 "Is that an answer to my first or second question?"

 Athelstan chuckled and looked at Ragnar.

 "It's the answer to your very first question," he said.

 Ragnar closed his eyes and smiled and leaned his head against the wall next to Athelstan's. The intense heat was dying out but the warmth was still there.

 Maybe Athelstan could get used to these customs.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading guys! If you have any comments, feel free to leave some :)
> 
> If there's anything that's bothering you, grammatically or otherwise, please write and tell me. I'd appreciate that a lot. 
> 
> And if there's something you liked, please tell me (if you want to)- it's always appreciated <3


End file.
